I deleted my posts from last night because they came across much drunker than I meant.

Today I am meeting with a psychic medium for an hour. I'm nervous and excited and scared. I'm dreading it because I'm very in tune with myself and know I will burst into tears immediately. I'd say this poor lady doesn't know what she got herself into, but then I remember that she is a psychic and probably is taking her Xanax now in preparation for a basket case like me.

This is my first real event of the month. I have the busiest month I've had in a long time. Every day of every weekend is filled up, and most of my weekdays are too. I'm flying across the country, and I'm seeing Lena Dunham, and I am going to Rise of the Jackolanterns, and Brad's band is having a beach getaway, and I'm seeing one of my best friends in Avenue Q, and I purposely wrote all of these in a random order so that you can't stalk me. Hahahaha! Way ahead of you, stalkers!

On top of everything, I'm waiting for a specific job to be posted for me... which would then require scheduling in a job interview somewhere. It would be salaried and include full benefits. And holidays off. And in a field that interests me.

I think I have a shot of getting this job. I really do. When I found out about it, I came home and immediately polished my resume and cover letter.

I think this might happen. I’m probably jinxing myself, but I think this might happen for me. Things like this never happen for me. I don’t try to make things like this happen for me anymore because things straight up never happen. I never have good news. I never do anything cool.

I tried not to cry on the way to my car this morning and succeeded. I tried to cry while driving my car and failed.

I can’t wait to not hate myself, man. And I don’t think this job will cure that, but I do think that trying to make this job happen is a step in the right direction.